Marshmallow
by Starry Knights
Summary: How would you like to wake up next to Byakuran? Byakuran/OC. Crack. One-shot.


My brain felt like it was pounding against my skull relentlessly and I knew I wasn't dead - though I was pretty much wishing for death. That bitter taste in my mouth was probably from some form - or many forms - of alcohol that had entered my body in the last twelve hours sometime. A sharp pain raced through my head again and a death wish escaped my lips in a whispered form. My eyes were still closed and I couldn't find the means to open them.

Ugh.

Hangovers are the worst.

I felt some kind of fabric on my shoulders that trailed down the rest of my body. So I was in bed. I breathed a sigh of relief, glad I made it home okay. I tried to remember who drove me. I remember getting pissed at classmates and going to a dark, loud club with a couple of friends and buying a drink or two...the rest was a complete blank. Man, I must have been wasted.

At least I made it home safely. I silently thanked the friend of mine that had been deemed the designated driver.

When I tried to open my eyes, I was only blinded by one strip of sunlight streaming through the curtains that hit my eyes just in the right place. It made the shooting pain in my head intensify that much more. I squeezed my eyes shut, but the ray of light was still refusing to go away. Now very annoyed, I reached my hand back to grab a pillow to put over my face.

Only, when I went to do just that, there was a soft groan of protest from beside me.

I froze.

This was never good.

I slowly forced myself to sit up and was astounded at where I was. No, I was not, in fact, in my own room. Where, exactly, I was, though, I couldn't be sure…. Either a bedroom in a mansion, or one of the nicest hotel rooms on the planet. It had a very obvious white-on-white theme. A 72" flat screen TV was staring at me from the opposite side of the room. The floor was white marble. The walls were some kind of glossy white. The frame of the enormous king-sized, four-post bed I was currently lying in was black, but the plush blankets, silk sheets, silk post-drapes and satin pillows were all pure white. A diamond chandelier hung from the ceiling.

Clothes were scattered anywhere and everywhere. I saw my jeans on the floor by one wall and my shirt draped over a chair on the opposite one. My bra was on the seat of the chair and on the floor at the foot of the bed, I identified the green blob of cotton as my underwear.

It was only then that I realized I was completely naked. Upon this, immediately grabbed the edge of the sheet and pulled it over my chest, panicking. I slowly turned to see who it was that lay beside me, but he had slammed the pillow back over his face and the rest of his body was covered with the sheets.

Wait, I take that back – I could see a little of the side of his face. Messy platinum blonde hair, fair skin and some kind of purple tattoo under his closed eye.

Well.

I decided that it would be in my best interest to get dressed and probably get the hell out of here while this other person was still asleep.

This wasn't one of those flippin' amazing Temperpedic beds, so yes, my movement was transferred. I tried to get up slowly, so I wouldn't wake this person up. I just wanted to leave, go home, take a shower and whatnot and then go see a doctor, since I sure as hell don't want to end up pregnant. I sighed and got dressed after hunting down my clothes.

I grabbed my bag, which was on the floor by the same chair that my shirt was on and began to run out of the door. I reached out for the handle, but stepped on something that slid across the floor, making me lose my balance and trip. My head whipped around, back to the bed. There was only the rising and falling of a steadily breathing, sleeping person.

I looked back at what I'd slipped on.

Okay, wait a minute – marshmallows? A half-eaten bag of marshmallows? What. The. Hell. Why the hell would a half-eaten bag of marshmallows – or a bag of marshmallows, period – be on the floor in someone's bedroom/hotel room?

I shuddered, forcing the thought out of my mind, before I could come up with any unwanted mental pictures. I didn't even want to know what role they might have played last night.

Why, my best friend was at the same doctors office I was at, at the exact same time, I will probably never know, seeing as I didn't care to ask. I was still half-dead from a hangover.

"I. Want. Details," Maggie scared the crap out of me, making me jump about three feet in my seat.

"Oh, so you're just casually waiting there like a creeper?" I asked.

"Come awn, V!" she pressed, like a vulture enclosing on its prey. "Who was he?"

I yawned. "Who was who?"

She looked at me with those eyes that people get when they're astounded that you could simply just not know. "The total hottie you walked out with last night! Who was he? I mean, I want details, woman!"

"Nothing." That I could remember, that is.

"Oh come awn, Vanessa! I know something must have gone on! Seriously-"

"Maggie, were you our designated driver?" I cut her off, just realizing something.

"Yeah," she said. "Why?"

"So you saw me walking out with a complete stranger while my judgment was impaired and you did nothing?" I stormed. "I could have been dead right now!"

"V, relax," she tried to calm me. "You two were just having a little fun. It's nothing to-"

"Nothing to be concerned about?" I finished for her. "Do you watch the news at all, or are you constantly in your own little world? Do you ever see how often something like this happens? Look at Natalie Halloway! Do you remember her story? She was wasted and her friends saw her walking out with some hot guy, thinking the same thing and look what happened! She was gone, never to be seen or heard from again."

This shut her up. Finally.

I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes, waiting for my name to be called. I was getting checked for HIV, AIDS, and any and all other types of STDs.

"You left in quite a rush, this morning," a velvety voice said from next to me. My eyes shot open and glanced to the side. This was also when I jumped almost three feet in the air, again. Spiky, platinum blond hair – though most of it was suppressed under a gray hat - purple tattoo-thing….

"You…." My mouth was pretty much hanging open.

"I can take a guess at why you're here, and you can go home. I don't have what you're getting yourself checked out for," he went on. "And if you don't have what I'm getting myself checked out for, then I get to go home, too."

He then averted his purple eyes to me and I just shook my head.

He smiled. My goodness gracious, it was that smile of an angel that most supermodels sell their souls for.

"My name is Byakuran, by the way," he said.

"I'm Vanessa."

"Well, Vanessa," he smiled, looking down at his cell phone. "I understand that we got off to a pretty awkward start, but if you'll let me, I'd be more than happy to buy you lunch somewhere." He thought for a moment. "I hear the sushi place, Yamamoto's, down the street is excellent."

"Okay," I smiled, rising with him and telling the receptionist that the emergency appointment was no longer necessary. We'd swapped numbers at the restaurant, though when he gave me my phone back, I edited his contact, erasing Byakuran and typing in Marshmallow, instead.


End file.
